Seducing the Man of Steel
by Jade4813
Summary: Lois has told Clark she wants to take it slowly, but then she changes her mind and Clark has to deal with the fallout. Rampant Clois, post-Pandora.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This one's for Ash. She asked for a seduction of Clark fic, and I had to comply. That said, I couldn't just make it straight-forward, could I? No sirree, what would be the fun in that!

I'm in the ficstravaganza this year, so I'll be working on these two things at the same time. So depending on how far I get behind in that, I may have to scramble to finish!

At any rate, this will be NC-17. If the title wasn't indication enough. and Ash...you asked me to tell you a story. And here it is! (Oh, and I promised to write an NC-17 if my Karma hit a certain point. Delayed I may be, but this still counts!)

**Seducing the Man of Steel  
**

Lois tilted her head back and felt the snowflakes slowly drifting from the sky hit her face. They were cold against her skin, but she didn't mind. She loved winter and, more than that, she loved Christmas. She always had, but this year, she had something particularly special to celebrate. This was the first Christmas she and Clark were going to spend together. As a couple. Just the two of them.

It had to be at least the millionth time she'd reminded herself of that little fact, but it never failed to thrill her. Part of her almost couldn't believe it, actually – she'd wanted him for so long but had never truly let herself hope for something more between them. But then he'd come to her and kissed her. He hadn't taken no for an answer when he suggested that the two of them should be a couple. After all this time, it seemed that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. And being with him was even better than she'd imagined because it wasn't just a dream anymore. It was real.

But yet, even as she reminded herself that all of this was real, she glanced out of the corner of her eye at the man walking by her side. Snow dusted his thick black hair and the shoulders of his wool coat. He'd been admiring the giant Christmas tree in front of them, but just as she glanced over at him, she saw him turn to look at her, a smile on his face.

His hand slipped into hers, a small gesture she once would have shrugged off, considering herself far too independent for such a gesture, simple though it was. The thought of releasing his hand at this moment didn't even cross her mind, however. Instead, she slipped her fingers between his, comforted by the small moment of intimacy.

"You know," he said suddenly, clearing his throat in that way he sometimes did before he brought up what he thought might be a sensitive subject. As she turned to look at him fully, he continued, "We haven't talked about Christmas yet. I mean, what we're going to do for Christmas."

"No, we haven't," she agreed, the two of them turning together to walk down the street towards her new apartment in Metropolis. She'd lived in the city the year before for a brief period, but then she disappeared inexplicably for three weeks (a period of her life that she still didn't recall, no matter how hard she tried) and had been presumed dead. Her cousin Chloe had cleared out her apartment before the landlord could confiscate all of her things, and most of her possessions had been sitting in storage ever since. Even after her return, Lois didn't immediately return to the city, choosing instead to stay at the Talon and provide emotional support for Chloe, who was grieving from the death of her husband.

Several times over the past year, Lois had resolved to move into her own place, but every time, she'd talked herself out of it, telling herself that Chloe needed her. Eventually, however, it became apparent that her cousin no longer needed her for emotional support in the same way that she once had, and Lois's excuses ran out. So she'd gone back to apartment hunting, finally finding a "quaint" (which she discovered was apartment-hunting lingo for "small and in need of some repair") apartment close to the Daily Planet. The place wasn't much, there wasn't much space to maneuver, but Lois loved it because it was hers.

Silence had fallen between them as they walked down the street together, so Clark tried again, "So…do you have any plans for Christmas?"

The corners of her mouth quirked into a smile. "Is that an offer?"

He didn't look at her, but she saw him smile. "It could be. If I asked you to spend Christmas with me, would you?"

Her immediate desire was to give him a definitive yes, but she paused. "I don't know," she admitted honestly. "I'm not sure it's a good idea. We said we'd take it slow, remember? I want to spend Christmas with you, but is that going a little too fast? I mean, we haven't even technically had our first official date yet."

He looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean? We've had coffee and dinner…we had dinner tonight, remember?"

Lois laughed at what was such a typically 'Clark' statement. "I mean a formal date. You know, where we plan it more than twenty minutes in advance. Coffee doesn't count. For it to be an official first date, we have to plan it out. I've got to spend an hour in front of my closet, freaking out because I don't think I have a single thing to wear, and then you pick me up and we go out –"

"You know, we tried that," he reminded her, his tone lightly teasing. "Four hours ago, in fact. But then, before we could go on our date, you got a tip on a hot story that didn't end up being anything, and instead of going on our first official date, we broke six different laws by breaking into a lab downtown. Where, incidentally, we didn't find anything."

She wrinkled her nose. "We found something! We just…don't know what it is that we found." She frowned, remembering her thwarted investigation. She'd found some samples that looked like they might be promising, but she hadn't been able to get them out in one piece. If only that security guard hadn't jumped her, breaking the phials she'd secreted on her person during the struggle. Waving away both Clark's comment and her own regrets, she continued, "I'm still firmly convinced that there was something there, and I am going to find out what it was. And anyway, that's beside the point." She paused as she considered their conversation. "Or maybe it's not, but the point is that we haven't had our first official date yet, so I'm not sure we should go rushing into anything by spending Christmas together."

Not to be deterred by her logic, Clark plowed ahead. "Lois, we've known each other five years now," he pointed out. "You've spent Christmases with me before. We used to live together, remember?"

They had arrived outside of her apartment, so Lois stopped walking and waited for him to face her. The teasing note left her voice as she said earnestly, "I know that, Clark, but…this is different, you know? I mean…this is it. Our first Christmas as, you know…a couple. I just don't want to mess this up by going too fast."

"I know that, Lois," he said softly. "And I don't want to make you rush into anything you're not ready for. It's just…" Tugging on her hand, he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Like you said, it's Christmas, and I want to spend it with you."

"Oh, Clark," she whispered, touched by his comment. Resting her palm on his chest, she asked softly, "Can I think about it?" He looked disappointed so she rushed to add, "I do want to spend Christmas with you. I do. I just –" She shrugged, a deceptively nonchalant gesture. "I told you, I've tried this relationship thing before and it's just blown up in my face. I don't know why. Maybe I do the same thing with relationships as I do with the rest of my life – I pull a Lois and jump in without checking the water level first and scare the guys away. I just don't want to do that with you. I want this to be different."

"It is different," he murmured. "And that you live your life so fearlessly is one of the things I love most about you. I'm not going anywhere, Lois."

"I want to believe that," she responded softly. "I just – I need time, okay?"

He still looked disappointed, but he nodded. "Okay. I told you I'll give you all the time you need, and I meant it. I don't mean to sound like I'm trying to rush you into anything. I just want to be with you."

"I know. I want to be with you too," she said. Then, needing to break the tension between them, she nodded towards her apartment building. "Well, I'm here. I'd ask you in, but…it's late." The hour wasn't the reason she wasn't inviting him in, and she suspected he knew it. The fact was, if she invited him in, she didn't trust herself not to ask him to stay. She'd asked him for time and he was giving it to her, but it was no easier for her to take things slowly with him than it was apparently easy for him to take his time with her.

"It's okay. I'll see you at work tomorrow." His gaze dropped to her lips, and he leaned towards her as though to kiss her. However, he caught himself before their lips made contact, and with her renewed request to take things slowly ringing in his ears, he simply tightened his arms around her for a moment before letting her go. "Good night, Lois."

"Night, Clark," she said softly in return, wondering if she should kiss him. It wasn't like they hadn't kissed before. Then again, with him this close to her, looking at her like he was, she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop with just one kiss.

But, really, how much harm could just one kiss do? God, she sucked at this whole 'taking it slow' thing. And it didn't help that taking it slow was the last thing a large part of her wanted to do. Her heart wanted to jump into the fray; her head told her to be more cautious. Or maybe it was the other way around, since it was her heart that she was worried about getting broken.

He was going to release her, so she fisted the lapels of his coat in her hands. "Wait!" she blurted. When he looked at her expectantly, she said, "Um…I was just thinking that this may not have been an official date, but…there's no reason why we couldn't…you know…" She grimaced at her own ineptitude. She was cool, calm and confident in absolutely every other aspect of her life, but when it came to romance, she always felt a little awkward. And Clark made her feel even more off-balance than she usually did.

He proved he really did understand her, though, because he wasn't put off by her inability to put her thoughts into words. Instead, he bowed his head and kissed her, a soft brush of his lips against hers. His lips were slightly parted, and she suspected he wanted to prolong the kiss, but he didn't. When he pulled away, he said in a husky voice, "If I do anything more than that, I won't want to stop. Night, Lois."

"Night, Clark," she said breathily, releasing him and turning back to her apartment. As she let herself through the main door, she glanced over her shoulder to see him still standing there, watching her. No doubt, he was waiting to make sure she made it in safely, as if she might find a way to get herself into trouble in the five feet between the sidewalk and her apartment building. Granted, if anyone could find a way to do such a thing, it would be her.

At another time, in another life, she might have teased him about his chivalry, but the truth was that she secretly was touched by his thoughtfulness. She'd never really had a guy watch over her like he tried to do…but, then again, she never before had wanted anyone to do such a thing. She used to think it would be a bit of an insult to be treated in such a fashion, as if she couldn't take care of herself. But when Clark did it, she didn't feel insulted. She felt touched.

A smile lingered on her lips as she let herself into her apartment, her mind full of thoughts of Clark. She knew she should be thinking about her story, planning her next step. But her thoughts kept drifting back to Clark. His sweetness. His caring. She was falling hard for him, and if she wasn't careful, she'd betray her emotions and he'd realize just how much of her heart he held.

Sighing, she climbed into bed and turned out her light. Tomorrow was another day, and perhaps she'd have some sort of epiphany in her sleep and awake knowing exactly the right way to handle all of the feelings – both good and bad – she struggled with when it came to Clark.

Clark strode briskly through the Planet's revolving doors, a smile on his lips and two mugs of coffee and a brown bag in his hands. Nodding to the security guard, he decided to forego the elevator and walked purposefully towards the stairs instead.

A couple of minutes later, he walked into the bullpen, his eyes automatically searching out Lois. She was sitting at her desk, her back to him. Sizing up the situation at a glance, he decided that she hadn't come to any conclusions about their story, because he could tell that she was resting her chin thoughtfully in her hand.

"Morning, Lois," he said warmly as he placed the coffee and the bag on her desk. "Got you some breakfast. They were out of maple doughnuts, so I got you a bearclaw instead."

As he spoke, Lois spun around in her chair and stared up at him. "Clark!" she cried as she jumped to her feet. "You're here!"

He opened his mouth to reply that of course he was here; he worked at the Planet with her, after all, and he'd told her that he would see her at work. But he never got the chance to say any of that, because before he could, Lois had grabbed his arm and yanked him rather unceremoniously towards the supply room.

As she propelled him through the door, she kicked it shut behind them. She grabbed the string for the blinds, snapping them closed before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. "Mmm…," she murmured a moment later, her lips brushing lightly against his. "I've been wanting one of those. All day."

He chuckled as he tightened his arms around her, pulling her tight. "Is that so?" he asked. "If I'd known that, I would have come in earlier."

"You should have," she breathed, kissing him again. "But since you're here now, you want to make it up to me?" she asked, reaching for his tie. Giving the swath of silk a firm yank, she undid the knot and pulled off his tie, tossing it aside. Then she reached for the buttons of his shirt, slipping the top button through its hole.

"Woah! Wait a second, Lois," he said in surprise, grabbing her hands to still their motion. "What are you doing? Don't you think this is a bit fast? I thought we agreed last night to take it slow. You were pretty emphatic about it, actually. Did I miss something? Did something happen last night, after I left?"

"Uh huh," she agreed, and then, without warning, she pushed him down into the chair that was resting in front of the copier. Climbing into the chair on top of him, she straddled his lap and continued to unbutton his shirt. "Something definitely happened."

"Wh-what was that?" he stammered, surprised by her forcefulness. His shock didn't prevent him from bracing her hip with one hand as the other swept her hair back over her shoulder. After all, her change of mood was unexpected, but it wasn't like he hadn't pictured something very much like this in his head a hundred times over the past year.

She leaned down and sucked his lower lip into her mouth, scraping the sensitive skin gently with her teeth. "I decided to stop fighting how much I want you," she growled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Lois felt the muscles in Clark's neck jump under her lips as he swallowed heavily. When his hands swept down her back, she arched into him, her hands diving under the folds of his shirt to caress his bare skin.

"Lois," he breathed, his arms tightening around her. Cupping the back of her neck gently, he pulled her mouth down to his, his lips parting under hers.

He almost forgot where he was as her tongue swept into his mouth. She was teasing him with her hips, rocking slowly against him, the way she was moving against him driving him mad. He groaned, the sound swallowed by her kiss, and wrapped his free hand against his waist, pulling her hard against him.

He felt her gasp, a sudden intake of breath, and then she pulled away and smiled down at him. It was at times like this that he thought she had to know the effect she had on him. This had to be intentional, the way she drove him insane. But, then, she'd been driving him insane for a long time now, even longer than he cared to admit. Even when he'd told himself he couldn't stand her, there was something about her; he couldn't completely ignore her, either. So maybe it was an accident, or at least it was something unconscious on her part. Her hair swept over her shoulder, brushing against his cheek as she leaned into him. He lifted his hand to brush it away from her face, and it was soft to the touch.

"I want you, Clark," she murmured, and her nails raked softly against his chest.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. "This isn't going too fast for you?" He didn't know what had caused her abrupt change of mind, but he wasn't complaining. He just didn't want to do anything with her tonight that would cause her regret in the morning.

She chuckled. "Oh no." Her fingers traced patterns on her skin. "Not too fast at all."

Clark tilted his head back to kiss her once more when a sound in the bullpen caught his attention. "Lane! Kent! Where are you?"

"Brady!" he gasped, pulling back abruptly. "He's looking for us!"

"So?" she asked coyly, bending her head to kiss the side of his neck.

"So?" he repeated in a dumbfounded voice. "So he could come in here any second and see – this!"

Her words were muffled against his skin, so he couldn't understand what she said but he could tell she wasn't particularly concerned about the prospect. With a growl of regret, he lifted her off his lap and shot to his feet, hastily tucking in his shirt and fumbling with his buttons. It was hard to put himself to rights when she was struggling to undo him again at the same time.

"Lois!" he hissed as he pushed her hands away. "Brady could come in here any second now!"

"I don't care," she replied simply. "I told you. I want you."

Now he knew there was definitely something wrong with her. He had dreamt of her like this several times – telling him she wanted him, her voice thick with desire. But even in those fantasies, when she'd ached for him as he did for her, he'd never imagined that she would become so lost to the world as she was now. Lois loved being a reporter; he couldn't believe she'd risk her career like this, knowing her boss was a few short feet away and could walk in on the two of them at any time.

"Okay, we should – we need to get out of here. Right now," he decided quickly, grabbing her hand and heading for the door. He paused before reaching for the knob and took a quick glance down, painfully aware of his physical condition. His uncomfortably visible physical condition. There was no way he could walk through a room full of reporters with a raging hard-on without somebody noticing. And while he knew it was probably impossible for him to die of embarrassment, he had absolutely no doubt that he'd want to if anyone saw him in this state.

He closed his eyes and tried to amend his condition with sheer force of will, but Lois seemed to be determined not to make it easy for him. Even as he was trying to calm down, she scooted in front of him and cupped his neck in her palm, running the hairs on the back of his neck through her fingertips as she kissed the line of his jaw.

"Lois," he growled through clenched teeth. "This is not helping."

"Oh, I don't know about that," she said on a chuckle as she licked his neck.

"Lane, are you in here?" Brady asked as he shoved open the door to the supply closet. It hit Lois and Clark, standing right behind it, knocking her into him.

Spinning her around quickly, Clark sped to the other side of the room as soon as her back was turned, putting as much distance between the two of them as possible. Then he grabbed a ream of paper and held it in front of him, using it as a shield to block the tent in his pants from view.

"Hey, Brady," he greeted his editor in a tight voice as the door opened the rest of the way. "We were just – uh – getting some paper."

"It took two of you to do that?" Brady drawled, looking between them. When Clark opened his mouth to attempt to explain, he waved him off. "Whatever. I've got more important things to deal with right now. There was a hostage situation at the First Bank of Metropolis. The police have taken down the hostage taker, and I sent Peterson and Williams to talk to the hostages. I need you to find out everything you can about the hostage takers."

"But Clark and I –!" Lois began to protest.

Clark was supremely grateful that Brady cut her off. "That wasn't a request, Lane!" he barked.

"Right!" Clark cried, racing forward to grab Lois's hand. "Well, we'll just…get right on that story, then!" Before Lois could protest (or, which was more likely, make a pass at him in front of their boss), he ushered her out the door and toward the elevators.

"Clark? The paper?" Brady said, reaching a hand out to take it from him.

"Oh, I'm going to take it with me," Clark said as he turned to keep his shield out of arm's reach. The sheer panic of the possibility of being caught helped alleviate his problem a bit, but it had by no means gone away entirely. "You know, we might need it. For…uh…notes and stuff."

"A whole ream?" Brady called after his retreating back, but Clark didn't answer. Instead, he pushed Lois onto the elevator and breathed a huge sigh of relief as the doors slid shut in front of him.

His sigh of relief became a gasp of surprise when Lois turned to him and shoved him against the elevator wall. "I thought he would never leave," she complained, and then she wrapped her fist in his hair and pulled him down for a kiss.

"Lois!" he cried, at least he tried to. It came out as a muffled, "Mmif!" however, as his lips were pressed against hers at the time.

He tried to push her away but she was too strong for him because she just pushed him back against the wall and kissed him again. Okay, maybe it wasn't that he couldn't push her away; he just didn't really want to. If he had to be completely honest with himself, and he supposed he did since his superpowers didn't exactly give him an easy excuse otherwise.

But the woman he was crazy about, the woman he loved, the woman he'd fantasized about on more than one occasion, wanted him. And while he supposed she might want him when she was in her normal frame as mind, she wasn't usually quite so…forward about showing him just how much she wanted him now. It would take a will stronger than steel to push her away, and he doubted even he was that strong.

"Lois," he gasped as she attacked the button of his shirt again. "This really – isn't – a good time!"

"Why not?" she asked, nibbling on his earlobe. "You're here. I'm here. Seems like a good time to me."

Even as he tried to find a logical argument against that statement, he found himself nodding unconsciously in agreement. He was finding it incredibly hard to tell her no when he really wanted to say yes.

The elevator's ding as they reached the ground floor helped a little, and though his thinking was fuzzy, clouded by lust, he managed to find the mental acumen to remember he had to get her to a more private location! No, wait! He had to find out what had happened to her!

It was the right thing to do, he told himself firmly as he propelled her off the elevator and across the lobby. It wasn't necessary what he wanted to do. But it was the right thing to do. Damn it.

Somehow – and even when he thought about it later, he wouldn't remember exactly how – he managed to get the two of them outside and into his truck. Breathing deep breaths and repeating to himself how important it was not to take advantage of Lois when she wasn't in her right frame of mind, he pulled into traffic, intending to head to…well, he wasn't exactly thinking clearly enough know he should take her. Normally, he might take her to Watchtower, but Chloe was out of town, working on something for Dinah. Clark just hoped something would occur to him soon.

"Clark," she purred, scooting closer to him. "Where are we going?"

He swallowed heavily, reminding himself once again that she wasn't in her right mind. "We're going – uh – well, I'm not sure yet. Give me a minute."

She leaned into him, her hair brushing against his neck. "We could go to my apartment," she breathed in his ear. "I've got a nice big bed."

Clark didn't even realize he'd turned the car around, heading back towards her apartment, until he passed the Daily Planet again. Muttering a curse, he pulled over and forced himself to turn around once more. The hospital. He should take her to the hospital. Maybe Doctor Hamilton would know what to do.

"Don't you want me?" she whispered provocatively in his ear as she rested her palm on his thigh.

He should push her away. He should probably push her away. There was a reason why he shouldn't let her do exactly what she was doing, he was almost sure of it. At least, he was reasonably sure of it. Okay, he wasn't sure of it at all, but he suspected that some time in the future, he'd look back on this moment and a good reason would probably occur to him. Maybe.

"God, yes," he murmured under his breath as he navigated around a car on the highway.

"So? What are you waiting for?" she purred, and then she sucked his earlobe between her teeth as she slid her hand between his thighs to cup him through his pants.

"Jesus!" Clark cried as he jerked in surprise, causing the truck to swerve across three lanes of traffic. The hospital! He had to get to the hospital! With as distracted as she was making him, if he didn't get there one way, he would almost certainly be getting them both there another.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Emil, I need your help," Clark blurted, whirling the man in question around and practically dragging him down the corridor.

"Well, I'm right in the middle of – oof – could you hold on a minute?" Emil snapped as he stumbled. Wrenching out of Clark's grip, he smoothed the wrinkles out of his white coat, adjusted his glasses, and then looked calmly up at the man in front of him. "Now, what seems to be the problem?"

Clark's hands clenched into fists and then opened at his sides in an unconscious gesture of anxiety. "It's Lois," he explained, scooting out of the way of two nurses as they walked down the hall. "She's – there's something wrong with her."

A frown creased Emil's brow. "How so? Is she experiencing side effects from the – ah – the procedure she underwent the last time I saw her?" He was careful to avoid being too explicit, in case anyone overheard their conversation.

"No, this doesn't have anything to do with that," Clark said. He heaved a heavy sigh and speared his fingers through his hair. "It's…uh…hard to explain." At the doctor's expectant look, he lowered his voice and hissed, "She wants to have sex with me."

Emil waited for a long minute but no more explanation was forthcoming. "Okay," he replied, drawing out the word dubiously. "And this is a problem?"

"Yes, it's a problem!" Clark cried. "We agreed to take it slow!"

Another beat passed between them, and then the doctor cleared his throat. "Well, Clark, that certainly sounds…uh…look, you do know I'm a doctor and not a sex therapist, right?"

"You don't seem to understand, Emil. I don't need a sex therapist; I need a doctor. Lois needs a doctor! There's something wrong with her!" Clark snapped.

"And you know this because she wants to have sex with you," Emil clarified.

"It's more than that," Clark replied. "She's – she's insistent about it. She doesn't want to take no for an answer."

"That must be terrible for you," Emil deadpanned. "Listen, I can tell that you're worried, but I have yet to hear anything that gives me cause for concern. You and Lois are dating. She wants to take your relationship to the next level. That sounds perfectly normal to me. I know your life is…complicated, but trust me. Here, in the world of…" He glanced around at the people passing by before correcting himself, "In the regular world? It's actually a good thing when your girlfriend wants to have sex with you."

Clark frowned in frustration. "Look, could you at least take a look at her? Maybe if you see her, you'll understand."

Doctor Hamilton glanced at the desk and the pile of folders that indicated a backlog of patients, and he sighed. On the one hand, it seemed like Clark was overreacting. On the other hand, he presumably wouldn't be so panicked if he didn't have cause. If he said his girlfriend wasn't acting like herself, there was probably a reason why he was concerned.

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can," he agreed.

"Hurry," Clark implored, before whirling and charging down the hallway.

A short while later, Emil walked into Lois's exam room, and what he saw there was a surprise to say the least. Lois was dressed in a hospital gown, perched on the edge of the exam table. She had Clark's tie in her fist, and they were kissing passionately, her legs wrapped around his thighs. He was bent over her as she lay back against the table, one hand supporting his weight as she arched her body against his.

Emil tried to get control of the room – or at the very least get the occupants' attention and break the tableau. "Good afternoon, Miss Lane. I'm Docto-oof!" Emil broke off as the edge of the counter caught him right in the solar plexus. He'd been so distracted by the scene in front of him that he'd walked right into it.

"Emil!" Clark yelped, jerking upright. He had to tug his tie out of Lois's hand in order to pull away from her. "We were just…uh…"

"I'm Doctor Hamilton, and I'm going to be looking you over today," Emil wheezed, trying to act as if nothing untoward had just happened, scanning the patient report in his hand to give Clark a moment to collect himself. In his peripheral vision, he could see Lois reach for Clark again and him dance out of her reach.

When she couldn't get her hands on Clark again, Lois sighed in disappointment and turned her attention back to the doctor. Throwing him a speculative look, she tapped her fingertip against her lower lip thoughtfully. "A threesome, Clark? I've never really been into that kind of thing before…and I'm a little surprised that you are." Bracing her weight on one palm, she continued, "And with a male doctor, no less? I would have expected a nurse at the very least."

Emil's pen twisted on the paper and then skittered across the floor as he dropped the chart he'd been holding. He coughed to cover his discomfort while Clark's face turned a lurid red. "Lois, he's not – I mean, that's not –!" Clark stammered.

"I'm just going to run a few tests." The doctor threw the poor beleaguered man a lifeline and practically attacked Lois with a thermometer, trying to get through the standard tests in record time.

He was just pulling the blood pressure cuff off her arm when she leaned forward and grabbed the hem of his white lab coat, running it thoughtfully between her fingers. "You know, Clark, I'm not up for a threesome, but now that I think about it, you may have been onto something. I never thought about it before, but these white coats are kinda sexy."

"Ahhh…" Emil said nervously, not sure if she was trying to come on to him or if she was teasing Clark, who looked like he was about to suffer an apoplectic fit as his face went straight from red to deep purple. Whatever Lois's intentions, the doctor was in a very uncomfortable position – and possibly a dangerous one. On the receiving end of the Blur's jealousy was probably not an enviable place to be.

Sure enough, Clark practically lifted him off his feet and set him aside so he could put his body between his girlfriend and the doctor who was currently the recipient of her attention. For her part, Lois didn't seem the least bit perturbed to have been so thwarted, because she jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Nipping his earlobe with her teeth, she purred, "You bring me here to do a little roleplaying, Clark? I'm a sick patient, and you're the hot doctor who's willing to do everything in his power to make me feel better?"

He groaned, an agonized sound, as she ran her palms down his chest. "N-no, that's not –" he stammered, and he had to suck in a sharp breath before he could continue. "That's not exactly what I had in mind, Lois."

She slipped her fingers under the line of his pants. "No? You'd prefer me to be a nurse? Or maybe a candy striper?"

"But where would we get the nurse's cost - no!" he caught himself. Grabbing her hands, Clark spun her around, holding her against his body, her arms tight across her chest so she couldn't grab onto him again. "Are there any other tests you need to run, Doctor?" he asked desperately in a strained voice.

Emil cleared his throat. "Well, I should probably check her heart," he said, lifting his stethoscope.

Lois grinned and wiggled in Clark's arms, causing him to let out another agonized groan. "I think he wants me to lower my gown," she said teasingly, tilting her head back so she could throw Clark a saucy grin.

"No. He doesn't," Clark growled through gritted teeth, pulling her tighter against his body in an attempt to minimize the effect of her squirming. "Her heart is fine."

"But he said –" she began to protest.

"It's fine!" he snapped, interrupting her. Emil wasn't about to argue the point; if Clark said that Lois's heart rate was normal, he was more than happy to take him at his word.

"Well, then, I think I'll just take a sample of blood and we'll be finished here!" Emil said hastily, grabbing a vial and a syringe out of a nearby drawer. "Er…she really should be seated for this," he added apologetically.

Clark winced. "Right," he said, but he didn't move.

Emil waited a minute, and then he prompted, "Clark?"

"Give me a minute, here," Clark snapped. Then, sucking in a sharp breath, he released Lois's arms and whirled her around. Grabbing her waist, he lifted her easily and perched her on the edge of the exam table, angling his body so his hips were tilted away from Doctor Hamilton's view.

"Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you do that?" Lois purred, pinning him between her legs again. "I never told you this, but right after we first met? When we were in the hospital together, and I said you'd have to go through me if you wanted to leave, and you moved me out of the way? It was a hell of a turn-on." Leaning towards him, she breathed, "Remember how we first met? When I found you naked in a cornfield and brought you to the hospital…if you ask me, we should relive that moment. You're just wearing a few too many clothes…"

Clark grabbed her hands as they reached for his tie. "Lois, please," he begged, the muscles of his neck corded as he tried to retain the tenuous grasp he had on his control. "Could we do this fast, please?"

He had been talking to the doctor, but Lois grinned. "How fast do you want it?" she asked suggestively.

"Jesus," Clark moaned, holding her arm out so the doctor could take a sample of blood.

Emil drew the blood as quickly as he could. "Okay, I think we should be done here," he said, hurriedly stepping away and scribbling a note on her chart. "Lois, why don't you go ahead and get changed back into your regular clothes? I'm just going to have a quick word with Clark in the hall."

"He can stay if he wants," she offered as Clark broke away, but Emil didn't miss a beat as he propelled the man in question out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Well?" Clark demanded, his eyes focused on the door to the exam room.

Emil frowned. "All the tests I ran were normal, but maybe the blood test will tell us something more. Can you think of anything that might explain her sudden change in behavior? Clark? Clark?"

Clark jumped, finally tearing his eyes off the door to look down at the doctor again, a slightly sheepish expression on his face. "Er…no," he offered. "I mean, not as far as I know. I'll look into it. I should give Chloe a call to see if she can – Ollie! What are you doing here?" he broke off as the tall blonde man strolled up to them. Doctor Hamilton knew Oliver Queen well, so no introductions were necessary.

Oliver looked surprised to see his friend there. "I came to see Doctor Hamilton, actually. Just looking into something for Dinah. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, well, I wanted the doctor to have a look at –" At that moment, the exam room door flew open, and Lois stood in the doorway, thankfully fully clothed. "Lois," he finished weakly.

Oliver opened his mouth to ask what was up, but Lois cut him off. "Ollie!" she cried as she caught sight of the newcomer. Brushing past Emil, she leaned towards her ex-boyfriend and asked in a low voice, "You know, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you. Where did you get your outfits?" Oliver let out a nervous chuckle, thrown by her uncharacteristic behavior, and she continued, "Because I have to say, all that leather is kind of sexy, and I was thinking…"

Clark had no intention of letting her finish that thought. Instead, he grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him, putting his body between her and her ex-boyfriend.

"Uh…I kinda wanted to know what she was about to say," Ollie interjected.

"No," Clark barked.

"But I think she was –" Ollie tried again.

This time, Clark's voice was an angry growl. "No. Don't even think about it."

Ollie's eyes almost bugged out of his head when she leaned on tiptoes and breathed in Clark's ear, "Getting a little possessive, there, Smallville? We could always go back into the exam room and picked up where we left off."

Emil cleared his throat as Ollie's eyebrows shot up. "Uh…where exactly did you leave off?" he prompted curiously.

Clark ignored him, and Lois tried to move around him, he held her where she was. Trying to pretend he hadn't been interrupted, he said, "I really want to look into this, see if I can find out what happened. But I'm not sure I should leave her, and I think it's clear I can't take her with me."

"I could probably have her admitted into the hospital for a few hours, if you'd like," Doctor Hamilton suggested.

"Or I could keep an eye on her for a while. I don't really have plans this afternoon," Ollie offered.

Clark shook his head firmly at both offers. "No," he retorted. While Lois seemed to be focusing the majority of her efforts on him, he remembered her provocative questions to both Emil and Oliver. He didn't want to take the chance that she would redirect her efforts, if he left her alone.

Figuring the two men could use a few moments to work things out, Emil tapped Lois on the shoulder until he had her attention. "There's some paperwork I need you to fill out before we can release you. If you'll come with me?"

As they walked away down the hall, Clark shoved his hands in his pants pockets and asked, "What about Chloe? I could leave her at Watchtower for a couple of hours."

His suggestion was immediately shot down, however, as Ollie shook his head. "She's still out of town, remember? Victor and Bart needed her help."

Clark grimaced. "Right." He growled something darkly under his breath. Running a hand through his hair, which had already been mussed by Lois's fingers, he sighed heavily. "I just wish we had a clue what happened to her," he muttered.

Ollie shot him a sympathetic smile. "Look, I know you're worried about leaving her alone, but she'd be safe with me for a few hours. It wouldn't be a problem, really."

This time, Clark didn't even bother to consider the suggestion. "With her curious about your leather collection?" he shot back. "Not a chance."

"What do you think is going to happen? Lois means a lot to me. I wouldn't do anything to hurt her."

"That's my point," Clark snarled through gritted teeth. "Lois means a lot to you, and right now, she's…persistent. Very persistent. Are you absolutely sure you wouldn't give in if she pushed you hard enough?"

Ollie was honest enough with himself that he simply grinned and shrugged. Clark had a point, but he couldn't resist the urge to needle his friend, just a little bit. "Well, she is my ex-girlfriend. I'm pretty used to how persistent she can be." Clark growled, deep in his throat, and started to storm off. "Are you sure you don't want me to watch over her for a little while?" Ollie called after him."

"Absolutely not!" Clark shot back over his shoulder.

As he watched Clark walk away, Ollie sighed. "Some guys have all the luck."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Clark got up the next morning and snuck out of the house before he could catch sight of Lois, though he left her a note telling her of his plans to work on the farm all day. After a long night spent lying awake on the couch, hard with wanting the woman sleeping on the floor above, he didn't dare see her or he thought his tenuous grasp on his self-control would snap.

He spent several hours working on the farm, hoping one type of physical exertion would take his mind off the type of physical exertion he'd much rather be having. The sun was low in the sky before he made his way back to the house, frustrated with both his lack of progress on the tractor and the fact that his efforts had been futile. He was still aroused.

It was with a certain level of trepidation that he plodded up the steps to the house, bracing himself before walking through the door. He'd tried to prepare himself for whatever he'd find inside, but what he saw when he walked through the door still came as a surprise.

His living room we strewn with more candles than a midnight mass. Only a dozen or so of them were actually lit, however. When he looked towards the kitchen, he saw that she Lois had decorated the table for a romantic meal. "Lois?" he called.

She rounded the corner from the kitchen and broke into a wide smile when she caught sight of him. "Clark!" she cried happily, bending over to hit a button on a CD player on the floor before racing towards him. "I was about to come looking for you, you know," she said as Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again" started to play over the speakers.

"Um…what's all this?" he asked as she threw her arms around her neck.

She pressed her lips against his, and he pressed his hand against her back, pulling her against him as he returned the kiss. When she pulled away, she nibbled on her lower lip and glanced around the room. "You like it?" she asked, not moving out of his arms. "I thought we could have a romantic evening together. I even made dinner." Leaning towards him, she murmured, "We should eat first; you're going to want to keep your strength up for what I have planned for us."

Clark tried not to grimace at the thought of the meal she'd prepared and the state in undoubtedly would be in. "Er…the candles?" he asked, trying to distract himself from the temptation to kiss her again, though his hands never stilled where they stroked her back, betraying his unconscious desire to touch her.

"Oh," she said with a sheepish smile. "Right. Well, what can I say? I got impatient. But it's the thought that counts, right?" Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed him back against the closed door. "And right now, you know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking we could skip the meal and head upstairs." She scraped her teeth against his chin. "Or there's always the couch."

"The couch? Really?" he asked, eyeing the piece of furniture in question to assess its size to determine if it would allow sufficient room for the image currently playing in his mind. Then, realizing the dangerous path his mind was taking, he shook his head. "Ahhh…you know…Lois, we really should talk."

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully, stretching to suck his earlobe between her teeth. "And here I had you pegged as the silent type," she breathed provocatively. "Don't tell me you're actually a screamer."

"Lois, please," Clark moaned in a pained voice. His hands shook as he lifted her and moved her away from him. There was no way he'd be able to concentrate if she continued to do what she was doing.

She didn't heed his protest. Instead, she grabbed his shirt and yanked him towards her, dragging him with her to the couch. When she fell back onto its soft surface, she dragged him down on top of her. Of course, he was only making excuses when he told himself that she'd been the one to drag him atop her; he could have remained on his feet if he'd wanted to do so.

He braced his weight on one arm as he stroked her side with the other, his palm sliding from her hip to her ribcage until his thumb traced a line under the curve of her breast. "Lois, we really do have to talk," he tried again as she squirmed under his touch.

"Yeah?" she asked, shifting her legs so he could settle between her thighs. She stroked his calf with her foot as she lifted her hips, pressing against him. "You going to tell me what you want to do to me?"

She ran a hand into his hair, pulling him down to her, and he hissed out a sharp breath when she licked the spot where his pulse pounded in his neck. His hiss turned into a moan as he ground his hips against hers, giving in to his desire.

"Tell me what you want, Clark," she purred, wrapping her legs around his hips.

His body shuddered with a sigh of need. "I want you, Lois," he moaned, his hand sliding under her shirt to stroke her bare skin. She arched her back, freeing the fabric so he could pull it over her breasts.

He bowed his head, running his tongue over the line of white lace, and she moaned and clawed at his shirt, yanking it out of his pants. Her hands dove beneath, digging her fingers hard into the muscles of his back. He wrapped his hand around her neck, letting her head fall back so he could kiss the underside of her jaw.

Clark slipped a hand under her back, fumbling with the clasp of her bra, when his phone rang. He moaned against her neck, trying to ignore the annoying peal of the phone. It didn't end, and so after over ten rings, he lifted his head.

"Ignore it," Lois moaned, making a wild swipe at the phone as she tried to smack it away.

She couldn't reach, and she made a low growl of frustration deep in her throat. Struggling to stifle his own similar reaction, Clark leaned to the left to grab for the phone.

He was about to chuck it against the wall when he caught a glimpse of the caller ID and read the name "Hamilton, Emil" on the display. The name was like a bucket of cold water over his head, and he stared down at the woman moaning beneath him with something akin to horror. He didn't know which was worse; that he had been about to take advantage of Lois when she wasn't in her right mind, or that part of him still wanted to continue what they were doing even with that harsh reality in mind.

"Lois, I-I can't do this," he said, practically levitating off of her as he scrambled off the couch.

"I – what?" she blurted, jackknifing into a sitting position.

He switched on the phone. "Emil, I'll be right there," he snapped into the receiver before he shut it off. Stumbling back towards the door, he stammered, "Lois, I-I'll be back in a – later. I'll be back later." Then he sped out the door, hoping that the run to Metropolis would sooth his raging erection.

* * *

Ollie and Emil were already at Watchtower by the time Clark arrived, his body somewhat better for the trip. Ollie got to his feet as he walked into the room. "Wow, Clark. Took a long time to get a hold of you. You weren't in the middle of something when we called, were you?" Ollie asked with a smirk.

Clark shot him a hard look but tried to ignore the jibe. "You guys find something? Do we know what happened to Lois?"

Ollie ignored the question in favor of tormenting his friend some more. "How's she doing, anyway? She still feeling…uh…persistent?"

Clark winced as he remembered Lois's behavior in the hospital the day before…and the ride home…and throughout the entire course of the evening…and the scene Emil had interrupted at his house… "She's fine," he replied in a strained voice. "But if you're asking if anything has changed then…no."

"So, has she broken the will of steel yet?" Ollie taunted him.

Clark's eyes narrowed. "Can we get back to the problem, here?" He pointedly ignored the blonde man's snort of amusement. "We need to find out what happened to her in the first place. Emil, what about the tests you ran yesterday? Did you find anything?"

Emil had been waiting on the sidelines instead of participating in the preliminaries, but at Clark's question he stepped forward. "Well, we're still waiting on a few results, but preliminary results do show an anomaly in her blood. There's some sort of foreign substance introduced into Lois's blood. I don't know what it is yet, but it might explain her behavior."

"What about a cure?" Clark blurted.

Emil grimaced and shook his head. "Without knowing what it is, I'm afraid I can't suggest a cure."

Clark frowned and suggested somewhat desperately, "Well, what about something else? Is there a chance the symptoms will pass on their own?"

The doctor shrugged. "There's always a chance," he replied. "But, again, I can't say for sure. And even if it could, without any more information, there's no way to know how long it would take."

With a sigh, Clark ran his hands through his hair. "Of course not," he muttered darkly.

Attempting to be helpful, Ollie cut in, "Well, I'm sure it would help if we knew a little bit more about what happened. Not just when Lois got infected but how. You've been with Lois all day. She have any ideas that might help?"

Clark scowled. "She hasn't exactly been interested in talking over a cup of coffee," he groused. "And, for the record, I asked her if anything unusual happened the night before last, but she said she couldn't think of anything. She was perfectly fine when I saw her that night, and she said that after she went home, she cleaned up a bit and went to bed. That was it."

Ollie considered Clark's comment. "Well, maybe there was something at her place," he suggested. "Something she came into contact with…"

"I thought about that," Clark interjected, "In fact, I was going to go over there to have a look around, but…I-I got distracted."

"I bet!" Ollie said with a laugh.

"Ollie," Clark growled in a low, warning voice.

His companion's smile fell and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "You know…there is something else that might help," he offered, every syllable slow and distinct as if ripped reluctantly from his throat. "Chloe had some cameras up at your place. I think…there's a chance…"

"That she's been spying on Lois, too? She wouldn't do that!" Clark declared angrily, though his words lacked the conviction they would have had only a couple years before. Nobody spoke, but all three men exchanged significant looks until Clark sighed in defeat. "Okay, fine. I'll check her computer," he conceded.

It didn't take very long searching the computer before Clark found the feed from the Talon apartment, and his expression darkened angrily when it came up on the screen. "I don't understand," he growled. "First my house, then my cell, now this…Why would Chloe have hidden cameras in Lois's apartment?"

There was no good answer to that, so neither man tried to offer one. Instead, Ollie said, "If we find anything on the tape, it might give us answers, at least."

"That doesn't excuse it!" Clark retorted as he hit a button on the computer to make the feed roll. He didn't really want to watch the tape, but Ollie was right. They needed answers, and this might be the only way to get them. Still, he hated having to invade Lois's privacy like this.

They stood in uncomfortable silence as the feed began to play, but they saw nothing immediately suspect on the footage. As Lois had said, when she returned home, she cleaned up a little – throwing her dirty coffee mugs in the sink and jotting down a few notes to herself – and then began to get ready for bed.

When she went into the bedroom and started to unbutton her shirt, Clark stopped the tape. "Okay, so whatever happened to her, I don't think it happened at her apartment. Where else?"

Emil and Ollie exchanged a glance, and then the doctor coughed. "Um…we really should watch the rest of the tape."

Clark glowered at him. "You want to watch my girlfriend get undressed?"

Emil flushed. "That's not what I'm saying. But you said it yourself. She was fine when you saw her that evening but she was already displaying symptoms by the time she got into work the next day. Something had to happen to cause the change, and the apartment is the most likely place."

Clark didn't respond immediately as he silently debated the merits of Hamilton's argument. "All right, fine," he said curtly. "But only because I think Lois might be in danger." But though he stared reluctantly at the computer keyboard, he didn't hit the button to resume playing the footage. After a moment, he glanced at his companions, his eyebrows arched expectantly.

"I'm a doctor. If we see anything, I'm the one who'd be most likely to know if it could be what's causing these symptoms."

Not to be outdone, Ollie offered, "She was my girlfriend, remember? It's not like I haven't seen this before."

Clark narrowed his eyes and glowered at both men, causing Ollie to smile nervously. "Uh – you know, Doc, now might be a good time to talk about Clark's powers."

"His powers?" Emil parroted, confused by the abrupt change of topic.

"Yes," Ollie confirmed with a decisive nod of his head, turning to the doctor and ignoring Clark completely. "For example, did you know that he can shoot death beams from his eyes? He's kind of like the Death Star like that. Actually, you might say that he's the Death Star and we're the red shirts. Lois would be…kind of like the Source, you get what I'm saying?"

Emil's jaw dropped and he stared at Ollie in a combination of horror and complete bafflement. Finally, when he managed to get his voice working again, he spluttered, "It isn't bad enough that Chloe has to butcher her metaphors; you have to follow her lead?"

Ollie looked hurt. "What?" he asked defensively.

Emil shook his head slowly. "Okay, first of all…the Death Star is Star Wars. Red shirts are Star Trek. And the Source…what is that? Transformers?" he demanded indignantly.

Ollie frowned in confusion. "No, it's the…the thing that the Jedi use. You know, to move stuff with their minds."

"That's the FORCE. And even then, you'd still be wrong because Lois isn't the Force to Clark's Death Star. Have you seen the two of them together? If anything, she's Princess Leia to his Han Solo."

The arguing men had completely forgotten Clark's presence entirely. Ollie choked at Emil's suggestion. "Are you kidding? You've met Clark, right? There is no way that HE is Han Solo. If anything, that would be me. Han Solo is…cool. He's ruggedly handsome. Charming. The kind of bad boy that women can't resist. Also, he's funny. Clark, on the other hand? Is none of those things."

"I'm standing RIGHT HERE," Clark growled through gritted teeth.

Ollie ignored him; he might not have even heard the interruption. "If anything, Clark is Skywalker…"

Emil snorted. "What are you talking about? Skywalker was a great character! He was a Jedi! He studied with Yoda to control the Force. Plus, he took on Vader by himself and lost a hand in the process…

"After which he cried like a little girl," Ollie retorted.

Emil shook his head. "He didn't cry because he lost his hand. He took that pretty well, actually. It was when he found out that Vader was his father that he lost it."

"Whereas Han got frozen in graphite –"

"Carbonite," Emil corrected him automatically.

"And even when he was about to be lowered into the pit or whatever it was, when Leia told him she loved him, he didn't sit and mope about his feelings. Instead, said, 'I know!' It was one of the best lines in movie history! So my point stands…Han Solo was way too cool to be Clark."

Emil frowned. "Well, he's definitely not Skywalker. Luke and Leia were brother and sister. Clark doesn't treat Lois like a sister. In fact he –"

"Is still standing. Right. Here. And you guys have both forgotten the actual point. Which, let me remind you, is that I can kill you both. With my eyes."

The arguing pair turned and looked at Clark to find him standing with his feet spread and his arms crossed over his chest. His chin was lowered as he glared at the men in front of him. "And you're not seeing my girlfriend naked," he added pointedly.

"You know, we probably should continue this discussion elsewhere," Ollie blurted, grabbing Emil by the arm and dragging him into the other room. Once he was alone, Clark started to play the feed again. He averted his eyes when he saw her start to undress, staring at the bottom corner of the screen and only watching the scene unfold through his peripheral vision.

He was trying so hard not to watch the scene too closely that he almost missed the significance of the moment when it happened. In fact, he had to rewind the footage and watch it again to be sure of what he'd actually seen. Lois had shrugged out of her blouse and was about to toss it on the bed when she stopped and frowned down a dark spot that had stained the fabric instead. Then she turned to the coat she'd been wearing and reached a hand into a pocket.

A second later, she jerked her hand back with a wince and stuck a finger in her mouth, sucking on it gently, and Clark rewound the tape to watch the scene again. Emil had said there was a foreign substance in her blood; whatever it was in her pocket that had apparently cut her, this looked very likely like the moment she'd been infected.

Flipping off the screen, he stared at the hard drive for a minute until it started to smoke, fried by his heat vision. Only then did he call Emil and Oliver back into the room.

As he stepped towards Clark, Ollie looked at the smoking hard drive. "You sure that was a good idea?" he asked mildly. "We might have needed that."

"She shouldn't have spied on my girlfriend," Clark snapped and then turned away, closing the door on that particular topic of conversation. "And, anyway, I found what we needed. When Lois was getting undressed last night, I think she cut herself on something that was in her coat."

"Well, that could have done it," Emil interjected thoughtfully, even as Ollie turned to the door.

"Okay, Clark, we'll check it out," he said, walking towards the exit.

Clark followed after him. "Wait!" he said. "I really think I should look into this. You guys can stay here. Emil needs to be here if we find anything, and until we find out for sure whether this is how she got infected, I thought you could look into other possibilities."

Turning back to the room, Ollie chuckled. "You mean you thought you could use this as an excuse to avoid going back home." His grin widened as he cocked his head to the side and stepped towards his friend. "You wouldn't be afraid of Lois, would you?"

Clark huffed, looking vaguely annoyed. "She's very persistent," he explained.

Ollie laughed. "That's what cold showers are for," he offered with a complete lack of sympathy.

The muscles in Clark's neck tightened as he glowered at the man in front of him. "I have an ice fortress in the Arctic," he snarled through gritted teeth. "Cold showers don't work on me."

Ollie's bark of laughter did nothing to improve his mood. "Man…sucks to be you." Perhaps in a sense of self-preservation, he choked back his laughter and attempted to sober. "Anyway, while I can understand your dilemma, I really think you should let us take this. You need to get home." At Clark's dubious look, he explained, "If you don't, she'll probably come looking for you and that probably isn't a great idea."

Clark frowned. "I took the keys to the truck."

Ollie snorted. "And you really think that's going to stop her?"

Clark's frown changed to a grimace of pain. "Okay…I'm going to head back to the farm. Just…the second you find anything, be sure to call me. Okay?"

"You sure we won't be interrupting anything?" Ollie called after his departing back, and the last thing Clark heard was the sound of the tall blond man's laughter as he headed out the door. He had a feeling he was in for another very long night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It would be inaccurate to say that Clark awoke early the next morning. Rather, he never really got to sleep, as he lay awake for yet another night, his mind busy with thoughts of his predicament. He sincerely hoped that Emil and Oliver found a cure for Lois's infection soon, because he wasn't sure how much longer he could bear it, this state of constantly being on edge. All he could think about was Lois – how much he wanted her and, when he was clear-headed enough, how much of a complete jerk he'd be if he took advantage of her.

He'd never been so painfully aware of another person before. It was absolutely maddening. She walked into the room, and the soft scent of her shampoo hit him like a physical blow. He strained his ears to hear her every heartbeat and every breath she took. He spent his days trying to avoid his desire for her and his nights hard from wanting her. From a floor away, he heard her murmur in her sleep with painful clarity. Hell, he heard the cotton sheets rub against her skin every time she rolled over.

So he spent another night spent in painful solitude, thinking about his girlfriend. As soon as he heard her start to stir in the room above him, he arose from the couch and threw on some clothes. Then he jotted a quick note to explain his absence – not entirely lying in writing that there were some farm chores he needed to take care of – before darting out the door.

If only the cold December air had even the slightest impact on his racing blood.

He spent as much time as he could manage outdoors that day. First, he walked slowly around the farm, taking care of such chores as checking the fences to see if they were secure. Once that was completed, he headed to the barn, where his devotion to trying to fix his father's old tractor reached heights he'd never before imagined. In the span of an afternoon, he took apart the engine, cleaned it, and put it back together. Three times. Before taking it apart for the fourth time, he called Emil and Oliver, hoping for any news on that front, only to be disappointed when he was informed that they had yet to come up with a cure.

With a sigh, Clark turned his attention back to the tractor. Anything to keep him from returning to the house, where he would slowly go insane, just from having Lois so nearby. Someone had once joked that he had a will of steel, but at this rate, he was beginning to believe that was selling him short. Steel would have broken by now. Perhaps he had the will of platinum. Or something even harder. Reinforced titanium? No; not quite hard enough. Aggregated diamond nanorods? He doubted even that covered it.

He was unscrewing a bolt when the barn doors were pulled open and Lois slipped inside. She was holding a coffee mug, which she held out to him as she approached. "Hey," she murmured in a low undertone. "You've been working out here for so long, you must be cold. I figured you could use some coffee."

He threw her a pained smile – but, then, every smile he threw her was pained nowadays – and took the mug she offered him. "Thanks," he said, taking a sip. He turned to put the mug on the shelf, and Lois took the opportunity his distraction afforded and scooted in front of him.

Resting her hands on his chest, she tilted her head back and threw him a devilish smile. "Of course, there are better ways to warm up," she murmured provocatively.

Clark stiffened as her arms came around his neck and she pressed her body against his. Though he told himself he should move away, his hands fell to her hips, and he held her firmly in place. "Lois, I don't think this is a good idea," he said, though even to his own ears, it sounded like a token protest. She stretched on her toes and nuzzled his ear, brushing her lips against the soft skin of his neck. "We've talked about this," he tried again in a thin voice. "You're not yourself."

"Really?" she murmured, nipping the lobe of his ear with her teeth. "I feel like myself. What do you think? Don't I feel like myself?" Leaning back far enough to break out of his grip, she unzipped her puffy coat, letting it fall open to reveal a thin blue pullover shirt beneath. When she rested her elbows on the tractor behind her, the bottom of the shirt pulled up, revealing the soft skin of her stomach beneath.

Clark knew he shouldn't touch her. He absolutely shouldn't touch her. His willpower was weak enough as it was; touching her would only make it worse. Trying very hard to keep track of his self-control, he swallowed heavily and clenched his hands into fists.

She seemed unconcerned by his dubious display of resistance. With her eyes locked on his face, she reached for the scarf wrapped around her neck, slowly pulling it off with a casual gesture. "You know, I've been thinking about it," she said in a slow, deliberate voice. "I've been trying to figure out why I don't seem to be getting anywhere with you."

"Well, like I said…you're not yourself. I don't want to take advantage," he offered feebly.

"So you keep saying," she acknowledged, kicking a foot towards him, wrapping it around the back of his calf. "At first, I thought maybe you'd changed your mind about me. Or about us."

"That's not it," he said with a shaky breath.

She nodded, a small smile quirking the corners of her mouth. "Oh, I know," she acknowledged. "You may be playing hard to get, but I know you're interested." Her gaze fell to his crotch. He was hard – again – and, by her smile, he knew she could tell as much.

He coughed sheepishly and shifted, but she hooked her scarf around his neck and held him in place. "So I thought about it, and I think I've figured out what's going on here."

"You do?" he asked hopefully. If she'd finally come to believe him when he said that she wasn't acting like herself, it would make everything so much easier. Maybe the two of them could even work together to find a solution to her problem! And when they'd found a cure for her condition, he'd…well, he'd probably still be hard as a rock, but at least he wouldn't feel so guilty about fantasizing about a woman who clearly wasn't herself.

She nodded. "Uh huh. You're shy."

"Shy?" he parroted in momentary distraction, not pulling away as she pulled him slightly closer. "Lois…I'm not shy," he said firmly.

She shrugged. "You sure? Because I would understand if you are. And, anyway, it makes sense. I know you don't have the most – ah – experience with this sort of thing, and in the hospital, you didn't seem too happy to see Ollie…"

He gave his head a firm shake. "This doesn't have anything to do with Oliver," he said. "Believe me."

"Hm," she hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I don't know, Clark. I think I'm onto something. If I'm wrong, I think you should prove it."

"Lois," he groaned. Sucking in a sharp breath, he tried again, "I'm not jealous of your ex-boyfriend. Trust me; I'm pretty sure I could teach him a thing or two." He frowned, trying to figure out if that had come out wrong. "Or you," he corrected himself lamely.

She chuckled and used her scarf to pull him even closer. "Uh huh," she said. "You sure about that? He was pretty good," she teased him.

"Yeah, well…so am I," he retorted.

With one last tug, she pulled him against her. "Like I said, I think you're just going to have to prove it."

He really knew he should leave well enough alone. She was trying to provoke him, and his grasp on his willpower was already tenuous at best; he shouldn't do anything that would make it any worse. But whether it was because she'd actually gotten to him or because he was just rationalizing it to himself, he gave in.

Reaching for the scarf, he ripped it out of her hands and tossed it aside. Then he grabbed her firmly behind the neck and tilted her head back, his mouth falling against her own. His first kiss was savage, filled with the frustration he'd been feeling for several days. She moaned when his teeth scraped against her lower lip, running her tongue along the curve of his mouth.

His fingers dug into her thighs as he grabbed her in a fierce grip and lifted her, yanking her against him as her legs wrapped around his waist. Then he thrust against her again and again, grinding into her until she groaned in pleasure.

He'd spent endless hours trying to remind himself not to touch her, and now he couldn't get enough. He cupped her face in his hands, letting her hair fall over his fingers. Stroked her chest with his fingertips, cupping her breasts in his palms when she arched her back. Slid his palms under the line of her shirt, caressing the skin of her stomach. Gave her belt a firm yank, pulling it open.

With one hand, he held her hips against his as he lifted her so she could shrug out of her jacket, letting it fall at her feet. Then he pinned her against the tractor so he could lift the bottom hem of her shirt. She reached for him, and he grabbed her wrists, yanking her hands over her head, pinning them against the cold metal surface of the hood.

"Oh, no," he growled. "You've been teasing me for days now. It's my turn."

She gasped when he tugged up the front of her shirt and stooped, licking the curved underside of her ribs. When his teeth scraped at her skin, biting her side gently, she let out a soft squeal of surprise and arched against him.

A man with a stronger will than he might have spent more time teasing her. Heaven knew she deserved it after tormenting him for so long. But he'd been tortured for too long; he couldn't wait any longer. Pulling her to her feet, he tore off her shirt and threw it aside. Then he pushed her back against the tractor, reaching for the button to her jeans.

However, his moment of unbridled lust was short-lived. As soon as her back hit the metal of the tractor, she let out a high shriek of surprised and jerked away. "Holy shit! That was cold!" she gasped.

Her words acted like a bucket of cold water; he blinked rapidly, pulling away from her. Temporarily lost in his desire, he'd forgotten it was December in Kansas, and he'd been about to make love with Lois in his cold and drafty barn. Against his father's tractor. While she wasn't herself. His eyes wide in shock and dismay, he staggered back, out of her reach.

"I didn't say we had to stop!" she protested. "I just thought we could take it inside."

Clark scraped his hair off his forehead in frustration. "No, I – I can't do this." Before she could reach for him again, he blurted, "I'm a mess. From the tractor." He held his hands up so she could see the backs, which were smeared with grease. "I-I should really take a shower."

"But Clark!" she protested. He didn't wait to hear what else she had to say as he raced for the house.

He spent the rest of the evening trying to keep at least ten feet between himself and Lois and, in the process, he was pretty sure he was slowly driving himself insane. At dinner, every time she'd raised a bite to her lips, he'd stiffened. Every time she'd leaned forward to grab her coffee mug, he'd almost jumped out of his chair. Wanting to jump straight into her arms. There was simply no avoiding it. He was losing his mind, and becoming jumpy in the process. Jumpy and exhausted.

When he finally wished Lois good night (coming up with some lame excuse to explain why he shouldn't join her in bed), he lay on the couch and closed his eyes. But once again, he couldn't sleep. It had been days, but it felt like it had been weeks – months – since he'd gotten a good night's sleep. Each night was worse than the last, as he lay awake on the couch, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried very hard to think about absolutely anything in the world but Lois. Naked Lois. Naked Lois in a nice big bed, just a few feet above his head.

Like he was thinking about her now, he realized, gritting his teeth in frustration.

Oh, he knew she didn't sleep in the nude most of the time, but his imagination was not about to let a little thing like that deter him. And, really, with the state she was in, there was every chance that her personal nightwear preferences could have changed. She could, at that very moment, be lying naked in his bed. It wouldn't even be that hard for him to check. If he just cracked open his eyes, he could x-ray the ceiling and…

The muscle in his jaw clenched as he tried to pull his mind off of her, scrambling to find a topic that would in no way remind him of the burning question of Lois's current state of dress (or undress, as the case may be). Chechnya seemed like a fairly safe topic. First he contemplated the historical developments that had led to the Chechen Republic's formation. Then he pondered the current social climate of the region. Once he'd exhausted that topic, he turned his attention to the nation's size and a mental calculation of the approximate square acreage of farmland in Chechnya versus the state of Kansas.

He was actually beginning to feel somewhat proud of himself, having managed to avoid picturing Lois naked (at least for longer than twenty seconds at a time) for at least a good five minutes or so, when his enhanced hearing picked up a soft sound a few feet above his head. Unconsciously, he strained his ears to listen.

It was a soft moan, and Clark's eyes flew open. He was about to bolt to his feet in concern when he heard her soft sigh, followed by another low moan. Which was when he realized that she wasn't moaning in pain but in pleasure. "Yes," she gasped.

A second later, he realized he was focusing to see through the ceiling, and he forced himself to squeeze his eyes shut. He couldn't quite summon the willpower to turn off his super hearing, and so he heard her every sound with painful clarity. Every moan of pleasure, every sigh, every gasp. "Clark," he heard her murmur, her breathing growing more rapid.

He was trying not to think of how he ached with longing, but when he heard her say his name, her name husky with desire, he groaned in agony. Beneath the folds of his boxers, his erection throbbed heavily.

"Yes," he heard her gasp. The soft cotton of his bed sheets scraped against her skin as her movements became more frantic. "Ohhhh, yes! Clark!"

With trembling fingers, he freed himself from his boxers. His lips drew back from his teeth as his head fell against the pillow. His erection jerked as he wrapped his fingers along its base and began to stroke himself – slowly at first, then faster as he listened to the sound of Lois's tiny gasps of pleasure above him.

His hips bucked off the couch as he stroked himself, thinking of her. His fist pumped hard and fast and he moaned her name, feeling his climax build. He was just about to come when he heard his bedroom door open, squeaking softly on its hinges. When she called out his name, her voice was husky and low. "Clark?"

He gasped as, through his haze of desire, he heard her call his name again, along with the sound of her footfalls as she came down the stairs. "Lois!" he groaned, freezing in place, his blood still pounding in his ears.

"I heard you call for me," she said as she came downstairs.

Had he? He'd been thinking about her as he stroked himself; had he called out her name without realizing it? It didn't really matter, he supposed. Either way, he couldn't let her find him like this. He fumbled as he hastily tucked himself inside his boxers, though his erection still jutted forward, tenting the fabric. As she came around the side of the couch, he knew he should launch himself over its back, using the couch itself as a shield.

But instead he froze, his weight resting on his elbows as he looked at her. She was wearing one of his rumpled dress shirts. "You wanted me?" she asked, fingering the folds of his shirt.

It really was too much. He'd heard her moan his name in the room above, almost come himself to the soft sounds she made as she pleasured herself. And now, when he was hard and frustrated, she was standing right in front of him, looking sexier than he could have believed. He was tired f fighting it. "Yes," he breathed, sitting up abruptly. Grabbing her around the waist, he lifted her and pulled her onto his lap. She gasped in surprise as she tumbled forward, her legs spreading as she straddled his hips.

He'd spent days trying to do the right thing, not wanting to take advantage of her when she wasn't herself. But this was Lois. He'd fantasized about her even before she came under the influence of whatever was causing her behavior. In his dreams, she hadn't asked him to take it slow and, in his fantasies, there was no need to try to do so.

He'd wanted her for too long – longer than she knew. The last couple of days had been a greater strain upon his will than even he could be expected to bear. He couldn't take it any longer. The hold on his willpower broke, and he gladly let it go, choosing to give up the struggle to deny himself something he so desperately wanted.

"Yes, I wanted you," he rasped as he sat up and pulled her hard against him. "You were the one who said I had something to prove. I think it's time I stop disappointing you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Clark cupped his hand behind Lois's neck, pulling her down on top of him so he could kiss her once more. Her hair fell against his cheek, shielding her face like a curtain as her mouth opened above his. When he trailed his hands down her back, his fingers catching on the soft cotton fabric that provided a thin protection between their bodies, he reflected that his shirt had never felt so soft – or looked so good – as it did on her.

With a moan, he tried to roll over, to lay her on her back, but the couch was too narrow. After struggling for a moment, he huffed in irritation and scooped Lois into his arms. For this, his first time with her, he was going to need more room.

Taking the steps three at a time, he raced up to his bedroom with her in his arms. When he reached the bed, he had to remind himself to go slow. Take his time. His desire for her was so intense that it was painful, but he wanted to do this right. And, also, she'd laid down a challenge he had no intention of forfeiting. He had something to prove to her, after all.

Clark rested Lois gently on the bed before coming down on top of her, his body pressing her into the mattress. Bracing his arms on either side of her head, he stared at her. Her lips were puffy from his kisses, her eyes hazy with desire, her cheeks flushed. For the rest of his life, he would remember what she looked like in this moment.

Lois wrapped her arms around his shoulders and arched against him, rubbing her body against his, and he realized that he had to do something fast if he didn't want to lose control. With a grunt, he rolled to the side and wrapped an arm around Lois's waist, pulling her against him before she'd even had time to realize he'd moved.

"Clark, what's going on?" she gasped, trying to turn in his arms.

He held her firmly in place. "I thought you wanted me to prove something to you," he reminded her, feeling a certain measure of satisfaction when he felt her tremble as his breath fell hot against her neck. It was time to act out one or two of the fantasies he'd entertained over the last couple of nights, when he'd been lying on the cold couch by himself, thinking of her lying in the bed above him.

First, he had to get her out of her shirt, but Lois was already ahead of him. He waited until she'd slipped the last button out of its hole and then covered her hand with his, marveling at how small her hand felt in his, how fragile. "What are you doing?" she breathed as he guided her hand, pulling the folds of her shirt aside.

He didn't answer as he brought her hand to her stomach and trailed it down to her hip. With her hand trapped under his, he was able to caress her with his fingertips, feeling the softness of her skin. "Clark?" she asked uncertainly, his name catching in her throat, as he trailed their hands along the inside of her thighs and up her stomach to her breasts. He heard her gasp when he thumbed her nipple, causing it to bead under his touch.

With his super hearing, Clark tuned into every sound she made as she guided her hand along an exploration of her body. He knew what made her catch her breath, what made her moan, and what caused her to make small mewling sounds in the back of her throat. When he'd teased her to the point that she was squirming in his arms, every movement she made against his body driving him insane, he swept their hands across her hip to the juncture of her thighs.

Lois didn't fight him as he guided her fingers between her folds and started to make small, circular patterns. He smiled and kissed the back of her neck as she shuddered against him, and when she moaned something that sounded like his name, he increased the pressure, stroking her more firmly, guiding her thumb to her clit to stroke it forcefully.

Earlier that night, he'd listened to her above him, heard her moan his name as she pleasured herself. She would never touch herself like this again without thinking of him guiding her like this, his body wrapped around hers, his breath hot as he kissed the side of her neck.

When she started quivering in his arms, he finally released her hand and plunged two fingers inside her body, stroking her deep inside with his fingertips as he continued to thumb her clit. The sounds she made as he pleasured her were intoxicating; after days of her teasing him, tormenting him, it took all of his self-control to hold himself back when all he wanted to do was tear off his boxers and plunge inside of her. Somehow, he held himself back, reminding himself that it wasn't time. Yet.

For three days, she'd teased him just by being nearby. He'd desired her with a need that was painful but had not wanted to take advantage of her condition. This one time, he wanted to torment her as she'd intentionally (and sometimes unintentionally, as well) tormented him. So, with the last desperate hold on his self-control, he concentrated entirely upon her, upon the sounds she made and the way she moved in his arms. He brought her to the brink, but when she was just about to go over, he stopped. "Shh," he murmured in her ear, his fingers stilling inside her. "Not yet."

Lois made a low moan of frustration and bucked against his hand, trying to finish what he'd started, but he anticipated her and thwarted her attempt. He moved his free hand to her waist, holding her hips tight against his as he listened closely as her breathing became less ragged.

And then he moved his hand again, increasing the pressure of his thumb, the speed of his fingers as he plunged them in and out of her body. He heard her breath catch; her fingers dug into his arms as her hips bucked against his. He bit the back of her neck gently, and her head fell back against him. He stroked her until she clawed at the sheets of the bed, and when her legs started to fall together, he thrust his knee between her thighs, wrapping his foot around her calf to pin her legs open.

With his hand, he teased her until his name was unintelligible on her lips, her breath loud and rasping in the silence of his bedroom. And then, when he couldn't take it anymore, he released her.

Lois cried out in surprise as she fell back against the mattress, but the sound choked off when he moved between her legs a little faster than he should have been able. But he couldn't take it anymore. He'd been teasing her, but he found that he'd been the one teased, in the end. It was no longer enough for him to simply touch her; he wanted to taste her, as well.

Spreading her thighs so he could settle between her legs, Clark bent his neck and nuzzled her. Lois let out a moan that was almost a shriek when he tasted her for the first time, his breath fanning against the inside of her folds as he stroked her with his mouth. His tongue located her clit and he circled it with his tongue, flicked the tip of his tongue against her, sucked her clit between his lips.

She arched against him, her writhing frenetic, and he found he had to brace her hips in his hands and hold her still to keep her from bucking away from his touch. When he thrust his tongue inside of her, simulating with his mouth what he'd been doing earlier with his hands, she let out a careening wail and made a desperate grab for him. Mindless from passion, she yanked hard at his ear, tugged his hair, dug her fingers into his scalp. She sobbed his name, begging for something she could no longer form the words to request. He was merciless with his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his teeth. Until finally, she let out a deafening moan that cut off abruptly as her breath seized in her throat, arched, stiffened, and then began to shudder against him.

Clark continued to lick her as she came, but this time his movements were slow. Almost soothing. After a moment, he stopped and lifted his weight onto his palms so he could look at her face.

The rise and fall of her chest was unsteady, her breathing still ragged. When she lifted a hand to her face to wipe her hair back from her forehead, he could see that she was still trembling. As he watched, her eyes fluttered open, and she looked down at him, her gaze still hazy from a combination of pleasure and desire. She stared at him for a long moment and then conceded, her voice still a bit unsteady, "Okay, I was wrong. You're not shy."

Clark chuckled, but it sounded pained. He was still throbbing; the sounds she'd made as she came had in no way helped with his condition. Sitting up, Lois reached for him. Once again, he remembered that she wasn't herself, and he felt the sudden pang of his conscience. Which, given what he'd just done to her, even he recognized as being fairly ridiculous. Still, his conscience seemed to differentiate the moral ambiguity of giving her pleasure and taking his, and the latter still seemed wrong, somehow. "Lois, I don't know –" he started to say in feeble protest.

"I do," she said firmly, wrapping her arms around his waist and dragging him on top of her. "You keep saying I'm infected by something and there may not be a cure. Well, have you ever considered that this might be the cure?"

Clark suspected that at some later point in time, when he was more rational, his brain not quite so fogged by temptation and lust, he would find a serious flaw in that argument. In his present condition, however, he couldn't help but feel that the logic of her argument was indisputable. He was rationalizing it to himself and he knew it, but he didn't care. He was tired of denying how much he ached for this woman.

As though sensing her victory was within reach, Lois tilted her chin back to whisper in his ear, "I want you inside me."

His self-control broke. Or maybe he simply threw it away with both hands. Either way, Lois wasn't able to say anything else, could no longer use her words to provoke or torment him, as his mouth came down hard upon hers. He devoured her with his lips, thrusting her tongue into her mouth. In the back of his mind, a voice whispered that he should be gentle, but he was no longer in a position to heed it. His kiss was hard and demanding, filled with all the frustrated need he'd been fighting back for days.

But rather than shrinking from the strength of his desire, Lois reciprocated his kiss, her embrace every bit as fierce as his. Her tongue battled his, her teeth scraped against his skin, her hands clutched hard in his hair. Rather than pushing him away, she wrapped herself around him, lifting her hips to meet his.

Her mouth swallowed his moan as he thrust inside her, her wetness making it easy for him to slide inside. When he had filled her completely, he lifted his weight onto shaking arms and tried to regain control of himself, hold himself back. This was their first time together; he should be cognizant of that fact. He knew he should make the moment romantic, take it slow, be gentle with her.

But Lois wasn't having any of it; she wasn't the type to lie passively back and let him set the pace. With her teeth curled into a snarl, she dug her heels into his calves and relaxed her hips before thrusting hard against him again. Almost of their own volition, Clark's hips surged against hers, and he accepted defeat. He couldn't hold himself back at this moment if his life depended upon it, and it seemed that Lois didn't want him to, at any rate.

His weight pressed her into the mattress and her voice was loud in his ear as he pounded into her. When he touched her, her body was slick with sweat, and from the way her hands slid along the muscles of his back, he knew his was as well. She met his every thrust, and he gritted his teeth, trying to prolong the moment for as long as he could. But he'd been hard for three days, wanting her. It had gotten to the point that the smell of his shampoo (which she'd been using when she showered) made him hard. He'd listened to her pleasure herself and had been doing the same when she'd interrupted him wearing nothing but his white dress shirt. He was simply past the point where even he could find the strength to hold off any longer.

She wrapped herself around him, and he came inside her with a cry, his body stiffening in her embrace. He could feel her lips on his forehead, his cheek, his neck, the curve of his shoulder as he poured himself inside of her. When his weight collapsed on top of her, he knew he should move, that he was heavy and he might be hurting her. But even still, it was a minute before he could get the strength to lift himself off of her.

Clark pulled Lois against his body as he flung his free arm over his eyes and tried to get himself under control. She rested her head on his chest, her leg slung over his hips, and stroked his chest with her palm. Even with his stamina, he knew he should be too exhausted to continue for a while, but at her touch, he could feel himself twitch and start to grow hard again.

Clark Kent was not a man who cursed often, but he muttered a curse under his breath. Perhaps he was getting infected by trace amounts of whatever was in her blood from contact with her sweat. More likely, there was just something about her; he couldn't get enough. Lois squeaked in surprise as he curved his arm around her waist and dragged him on top of his body.

She needed no further invitation. Her fingers curved into his skin as she poised herself above him and let him guide himself into her body. With her palms against his chest, she braced her weight as she rode him. But still, she teased him, paying him back for what he had done to her until he moaned her name, his voice pleading. When Clark looked up at her face, he saw from her mischievous smile that she knew exactly what she was doing to him, riding him fast and then slowing unexpectedly until he was groaning in frustration.

He let her torment him for as long as he could stand it, and then he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her off him, tossing her back onto the bed. Lois laughed and rolled as she fell, ready to scramble away out of his reach. Next time, he promised he'd let her tease him as much as she wanted. But not tonight. He couldn't take much more of it tonight.

Grabbing her fast before she could get away from him, Clark lifted himself into a kneeling position behind her, nudging her legs apart with his knees. Her chuckle turned into a moan as he rubbed her with his fingers, testing her wetness, and she backed into him. Reaching beneath her, he nudged her legs open until they were spread wide, and then he took his position behind her again.

Slipping two fingers inside of her, he stroked her until she moaned. And then, when she was rocking back against him, he entered her once more. With one hand on his hip and the other wrapped around her thigh, he pulled her back against him, as he thrust into her. She moaned and rolled her hips, meeting his thrusts. "Faster," she gasped, and he complied, surging into her. The hand on her hip moved between her legs and he stroked her clit as he pounded inside her again and again.

Her hands fisted into the sheets, pulling them away from the mattress. Their cries met and echoed in the small enclosed space. Her hair fell over her shoulders, framing her cheeks, and she shook her head hard, trying to fling away. Clark reached for her, pulled her hair back over her shoulders. It was damp from where it had rubbed against her body. Wrapping it around his hand, he placed his palm on her shoulder, pulling her head back a little as he continued his rhythmic thrusts.

It wasn't long before she was trembling in his arms again, moaning loudly as she came. He released the hold he had on her hair when her arms buckled and she buried her face against the pillow to muffle her cries. Thrusting into her a few more times, Clark's hands tightened on her hips and he screamed in pleasure, pouring into her once more.

When Lois fell against the mattress, he came down on top of her, twisting to the side so he wouldn't unintentionally hurt her. And then, as she curled up in his arms again, he drifted off to sleep.

They made love twice more that night. Once, he awoke to the feel of her mouth against him. She had her hand wrapped around his shaft and was swirling her tongue around the head of his penis. When she saw his eyes flutter open and felt the muscles of his thighs tighten beneath her, she wrapped her mouth around his tip, running her tongue along the length of his shaft as she swallowed him.

The next time Clark awoke, it was when he felt the mattress beside him shift. He wrapped an arm around Lois's waist, pulling her against him. She chuckled and told him she needed a glass of water, and so he'd reluctantly let her go. But when she returned to the room, he was waiting for her. She'd barely stepped across the threshold when she was in his arms. They didn't even make it to the bed, that time; he took her against the wall, knocking over the lamp on his dresser as she wrapped her legs around him.

The sun was already high in the sky by the time they stirred again. Clark awoke first, though he tried to remain very still so he wouldn't disturb her. A while later, he heard her breathing quicken and watched as her eyes fluttered open. Propping his head on his elbow, he smiled down at her. "Morning," he murmured, throwing his arm over her waist, his fingers trailing gently against the small of his back.

Lois yawned and shifted closer to him. "Morning," she said, her voice thick with sleep.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, a slight crease of concern forming between his eyebrows. He was afraid he'd been too aggressive the night before and she might be sore.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes at him, as though she had read his thoughts. "Fine. I feel…" She paused and frowned, blinking rapidly in confusion. "I feel…different."

Clark stiffened almost imperceptibly. "Different?" he asked, the question stilted. "What do you mean, different?" Too late, his conscience awoke and reminded him in graphic detail of all the things he had done with her the night before that he almost certainly shouldn't have. "Bad different or good different?" he pressed worriedly.

She shook her head slightly, but her frown grew. "Just…different, different. I think…It's hard to explain. I've been incredibly turned on for the last few days, ever since that night we agreed to take it slow, but now…"

Her sentence broke off as she gasped and shot bolt upright, clutching the sheet to her chest. Clark could feel his stomach sink as he anticipated what was coming. She was going to be angry, furious with him for taking advantage of her. He'd known she wasn't herself, but he hadn't cared. He should have held out longer, even if it killed him.

His brain was about to run through the long litany of things he should have done – and definitely should not have done – under the circumstances, when Lois turned to glare at him. "Clark!" she cried indignantly.

"I know what you're going to say, Lois, and you're right. I'm sorry…" he began as he sat up. He knew she was going to be livid with him, and he supposed she had a right to be. The worst part was, he knew he couldn't lose her, but he didn't have the first clue of how to fix this.

Lois cut him off, but what she said was completely unexpected. "Three days!" she exclaimed. His apology trailed off, and he drew back in surprise. "I was doing everything I could to get you into bed, and it took you three days to finally cave?" There was no mistaking it. She didn't sound livid that he'd finally given in, like he'd expected. She just sounded affronted that it had taken him so long.


End file.
